Summer trivia

I am in possession of a skinny Perigee paperback whose writer, founder and possibly lone member of something called the Useless Information Society, is Noel Botham. Mr. Botham lurks primarily in England. His output “The Totally Awesome Book of Useless Information” came to me via some totally useless individual.

So, did you know:

Pilgrims inhaled popcorn at their first Thanksgiving, which beats whatever my cousin served last year.

Maine is the world’s toothpick capital. If ever you had dinner there, you’d understand why.

The tallest mammal, the giraffe, is born 6 feet long. Just imagine if there was an octogiraffemom?

Of interest only to squirrels is they climb trees faster than they run on the ground.

Iguanas hold their breath 28 minutes. Like figure going snout to snout with an iguana in one hand, Rolex in the other and challenging that, right?

A pig always sleeps on its side. Me, too, and I eat nearly that much.

“Fred,” the oldest goldfish, lived to 41. Now who can know how old’s a goldfish? By telling what? The candles on his algae? I mean, please.

If the thing was female she’s probably 81, lying about her age and getting Botox on her fin.

Queen Elizabeth I had more than 2,000 dresses. Queen Elizabeth II has more, but they’re all the same. Different colors, matching hats but that same damn black shoes and dangling handbag.

Icelanders read more books than any other people in the world. This I myself knew. Also, what else they got to do?

Listen to this. Page 8: “The human brain stops growing at age 18.” So, hooray, we can finally understand the problem in Washington.

Victor William Xerxes Yancy Zeus Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorft Sr. Senior? Like another’s around with that same name who is a Junior? Or somewhere there could exist a Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorft the Third?

Wait. Even Pinocchio didn’t know your thumb’s the same length as your nose.

Here’s something that rarely comes up in conversation and how Mr. Botham determined this, only God or Charlie Rose would know. To see at night as well as an owl, humans need eyeballs as large as grapefruits.

Another. A sneeze travels at more than 100 miles per hour. I ask you, how often and how fast can a traffic cop shove his radar instrument up your sinus? Who’s going to tell him: “Listen, you’re wrong. A sneeze only travels at 96 1/2 miles an hour.” And what if it’s only in a 55 mph zone, does that confuse him?

More. Turtles breathe through their bottoms. Interesting. But the book ignores important facts such as, what you get if you cross an elephant with a prostitute? The answer happens to be “a three-quarter ton pickup.” But this compilation bypasses vital information like that.

Page 126: Due to the planet’s rotation, an object’s thrown farther if it’s thrown west. Something the Yankees should learn.

Question: What’s a deltiologist? Answer: One who collects postcards.

P.S. This illustrated book claims its artist Travis Nichols, a New Yorker, “enjoys meteorites and eating watermelon over the sink.” Not something that usually pops up in conversation. Picture bumping into him in Le Cirque’s men’s room and, while spitting out watermelon seeds, he’s saying, ‘So, speaking of meteorites . . .”

Want something to drop at dinner? China has 600 bicycles for every car (must be a load of takeout Chinese food). And the Netherlands has the world’s most bicycles per capita. (Must be the Dutch are in a hurry for their delivery of room temperature herring.)

I don’t know what to do with this factlet, but the book says urine was once used as a washing detergent. Presumably our forefathers and foremothers never heard that Ivory’s 99 and 44/100ths percent pure.

And may the Knicks be aware that — and I quote — “Cranberries are sorted for ripeness by bouncing them. A fully ripened cranberry can be dribbled like a basketball.” Interesting to see what Carmelo Anthony could do with a grapefruit.

But this volume misses what’s really crucial. I’m talking first-aid measures. Stuff on staying hydrated. This being summer, no warning about not going near the water if a squid walks by with six arms in a sling. Or what to do in hot weather if Evian trucks collide in Beverly Hills and there’s an H20 shortage.

A tug of war used to be an Olympic event, so this book should warn about the coming Olympics opening parade of athletes. Despite our thrill, we must calm ourselves when seeing steroids from every nation marching and bulging together.